


Tender Loving Care

by Howlingdawn



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:14:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23842066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Howlingdawn/pseuds/Howlingdawn
Summary: A series of Spuhura ficlets requested over on Tumblr. Individual summaries in the chapter notes.
Relationships: Spock/Nyota Uhura
Comments: 1
Kudos: 28





	1. I Promise

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: “You are trembling.”
> 
> Summary: Missing scene from Beyond after the final fight

Nyota ran to the drone ship the moment Len managed to set it down with only minimal roughness, though she still heard the men inside bickering over backseat driving as the hatch slid open. The bickering continued as she heard them begin to move around, the topic shifting to who was getting out first and with how much help. She rolled her eyes, her fears reluctantly assuaged by their typical childishness, and called for them to hurry.

The bickering died at that, and moments later, Spock popped out, gripping the ship too tightly, taking a moment to steel himself before half pushing, half lifting himself out. Nyota steadied him, bracing him when he stumbled, the strain between them forgotten in the simple light of being reunited on safe ground.

She guided him a few steps aside, giving Jim and Len room to get out, before drawing him into a hug, balancing the need to hold him tight with mindfulness of his wound. He leaned into her, favoring his injured side, and in that moment, with the rush of survival wearing off and him heavy and exhausted in her arms, it truly hit her how close she had come to losing him, to living with their final argument hanging over her for the rest of her life. “Are you ok?” she asked quietly.

“I will be.” He lifted his head, looking at her with eyes dull from pain. “You are trembling.”

She couldn’t help but smile – of course he was still concerned about her. For all his Vulcan qualities, he had the sweetest, kindest heart she had ever known. “It’s just the adrenaline wearing off,” she reassured him, lifting her hand to cup his too-pale cheek. “I’m fine.”

He studied her for a moment, searching for hints of deception, and believed her. “I am glad.”

Like a lurking shadow, she could feel the awkwardness creeping up on them again. “Nyota-” he started.

She quieted him with a kiss, with the softest brush of their lips. “We’ll talk,” she promised in a whisper. She hadn’t been able to promise that when he had first brought up potentially leaving Starfleet for New Vulcan, shocked as she was by the suddenness of it, hurt as she was by the implications of it. But after watching her crewmates die, after the race to escape and save the base, her perspective had been rather violently upended, and while she still didn’t want to lose Spock, the ability to talk it over before possibly letting him go to find a different purpose in life was a much more palatable concept than finding his lifeless body on a cold alien world. “I promise.”

His shoulders slumped a fraction, relief painted across his face, and he returned the kiss, lingering over the touch. She smiled into it, her eyes drifting shut, and though the future was still uncertain, the sense that everything would be just fine sent a wave of peace washing over her.

“For now,” she eventually murmured, easing out of the kiss, “let’s get you and Jim some treatment.”

“Oh, look, she remembered us,” Len said drily. “Thanks, by the way, for helping us out too.”

Nyota’s smile became mischievous as she turned, slipping her arm around Spock’s waist to help bear his weight. “You’re quite welcome, Leonard.”

Len glared.


	2. Rest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: “Shh, stop fussing. I am just braiding your hair.”
> 
> Summary: Spock is exhausted, but, in true Spock fashion, stubbornly refusing to sleep. Nyota convinces him otherwise.

Nyota sat by the corner of the cavernous shelter they resided in, next to the pair of cots she and Spock had been given. It was an underground structure carved out of the stone that composed much of the planet’s crust. Intricate designs had been etched into the grey walls, depicting a number of the native culture’s myths and legends that she and Spock had learned about in great detail during the first two hours they had been sequestered away down here. The sconces adorning each wall at regular intervals held orbs with no power source that Spock had been able to figure out, yet each one cast a steady, warm light over a fair distance, floor lamps with the same orbs lighting the center of the room.

It was a large room, consisting simply of four walls, designed only to protect every member of the town from the fierce storms of acid rain that occasionally struck. A few families had strung up their blankets as curtains for privacy, each one colorful and woven with beautiful abstract patterns that Nyota greatly admired, but the majority of the town’s residents chose to stay in the open area at the center, singing, dancing, praying, or simply chatting to pass the time.

They called themselves the Khuqiel, a people small in stature but grand in heart. They were slender, most of them hardly reaching Nyota’s shoulders, their pale purple skin covered in a fine layer of white fur that almost seemed to glow when they were happy, which seemed to be all the time from what Nyota had seen. She was rather certain that, had she not been there as a buffer, their boundless enthusiasm would’ve overwhelmed her husband.

As it was, however, they were approaching their sixteenth hour in this shelter that the _Enterprise_ ’s transporter couldn’t penetrate, and with little else to do, he had decided to brave their propensity for physical affection even amongst strangers for the sake of scientific inquiry. Nyota had smiled and set to work on the collection of children’s schoolwork she had been provided with, taking advantage of their sudden abundance of free time to familiarize herself with their two most common languages, a pile of papers and books spread on the ground before her, centered around a computer programmed with interactive lessons.

She was just beginning to wrap her mind around their second language’s extremely complex rules of verb conjugation when, after four hours of discussions with their town’s foremost scientists, Spock returned to her. He picked his way carefully through her work to sit beside her, and only a mere handful of people in the galaxy besides herself would’ve been able to detect the heaviness with which he sat, or the slight blankness in his eyes that spoke of profound exhaustion.

Though she wanted to gather him close and insist he rest, Nyota left the option of touch up to him. “Did you learn anything?” she asked.

“I learned that I will never again take for granted how restrained humans are with touch,” he answered resignedly.

Nyota looked at him sympathetically. “When the storm passes, I promise I’ll convince Jim to give you plenty of time off to hide in our quarters.”

“I would appreciate that,” he said, just a little too desperately.

She couldn’t hold back a chuckle. “We’ll be out of here soon enough.”

“I doubt that,” he muttered, eyeing a Khuqielan that appeared for a brief moment to be heading in their direction.

She shook her head affectionately, shifting slightly so anyone would have to talk to her before him. “You could sleep,” she suggested. “They wouldn’t bother you then.”

“You know I do not like sleeping with so many people around.”

“Yes, you might slip up and crack a smile during your dream,” she teased.

Looking around, she found him staring at her with pursed lips, his limbs gathered protectively close to his body. “We could be here for another thirty-eight hours, sweetheart,” she pointed out, “and you haven’t slept in nearly a week. Sooner or later, you may have to sleep here whether you want to or not.”

He paled. “I rather hope this is not one of their two-day storms.”

She sighed, knowing he wouldn’t give in on this. “All right,” she acquiesced. “Can you at least try to meditate? That’s a little restful, at least.”

He considered, conceding with a nod. “I will meditate.”

“Thank you.”

He settled into his preferred meditation pose, and she returned to her study. They continued this way in amicable silence for a short while, accented by the soothing background of the Khuqielans’ chatter, until Nyota heard a new noise: Snoring.

It was tiny. Faint. And coming from behind her.

Not that she needed that last detail to recognize Spock’s snore.

She hardly had time to arch an eyebrow before it cut off, no doubt by him jerking awake as he began to slump over. She pressed her lips together, focusing on her struggle not to laugh, and jumped a little when she suddenly felt fingers in her hair.

“My apologies,” he said, his voice dangerously close to slurring. “I am only braiding your hair.”

“Because you fell asleep and are now trying to stay awake?”

“…Perhaps.”

She turned around, smiling at his sheepish expression. “Spock. Just go to sleep.”

“I do not want to.”

He sounded like a petulant child. “Spock.”

“Nyota.”

Getting onto her knees, Nyota gripped his shoulders and gently pushed him down until he lay on the nearest cot. He resisted slightly, but she suspected it was more for show than anything, because he melted readily enough onto the soft surface. Knowing he found it easier to admit he needed sleep if she did as well, she closed her borrowed computer and snuggled onto the cot beside him. They barely fit, her back pressed snugly against his chest, his knees drawn up so his feet didn’t dangle, thus pushing her own knees over the edge, but once she pulled the pink blanket with a floral pattern over the two of them, he was all but hidden from sight, and that was the final push he needed. Giving in to his exhaustion, he nestled his face into the back of her neck, seeking her warmth, and wrapped his arms around her. “Good night, sweetheart,” she murmured.

He didn’t respond, already out like a light, faintly snoring in seconds.

Content as she always was in his arms, Nyota was quick to follow him.


End file.
